The Dark Passenger
by FloatYourBoat21
Summary: Santana... a blood-splatter analyst for Miami Metro PD by day, vigilante killer by night. That's normal, right? What happens when her path crosses with Brittany Pierce's, the girlfriend (and perhaps partner) of notorious and recently caught serial killer Samuel Evans... AU Brittana/Dexter-style one-shot. Enjoy!


**The Dark Passenger****  
**

It's happening again... that unmistakable feeling; that urge that I can no longer ignore. I need to fill this void. I need to release this tension. I need... to _kill_.

It's been 21 days, 15 hours, and 2 minutes since I've had someone on my table… since my knives have tasted blood. I'm starting to get very antsy... well; actually _Snix_ is the one starting to lose it.

_Snix_ is what I call my dark passenger... that need inside of me that builds up and tells me that I need to kill. But I can't kill just anyone... they have to meet the standards of _The Code_. I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself though.

_Perhaps I should explain..._

* * *

I wasn't always like this, but I knew that my ultimate fate was inevitable, given what I had been through. As a child, I went through a traumatic experience that changed my life forever.

When I was 5 years old, I witnessed my biological mother being murdered. Although I was too young to understand it at the time, being surrounded and soaked in that much blood for several hours is something that never leaves you. Many years later, I learned about the circumstances that surrounded my mother's death. She was a drug addict that ripped off the wrong dealer. In return, her life was taken from her. Although my mother wasn't a saint, no one deserves to be left in a dark alley like yesterday's garbage.

When the police and paramedics finally arrived, all I remember is being taken away from the gruesome scene by a female officer. She was very tall, about early to mid-30s, and had blonde hair. Her name was Sue Sylvester. She ended up being my savior.

Sue was a veteran police officer with the Miami Metro Police Department, having 13 years of experience under her belt. She was very devoted to her job, which didn't leave her much time for a social life. Although she never married, she always hoped to become a mother one day. And so a few years back, she adopted a baby boy named Noah.

When she rescued me from the horrendous circumstances that I had been left with, she could've easily turned me over to DFACS and let me get lost in the system… but she didn't. Instead, she decided to adopt me and make me apart of her family. Noah and I instantly got along and were practically inseparable as we got older. Once we hit high school, I still remained very protective over him, even after he became a huge ladies man and started going by Puck. Regardless of the fact that he could easily take care of himself… he was still my little brother.

It was around this time that I started to realize that I was very different from most people my age. I wasn't interested in dating or playing sports… I was interested in stuff like crime rates in particular areas and what sex offenders lived within a 5-mile radius. As time went on, it got harder and harder to ignore the increase of violence that was happening right outside my back door. It was at this time when I felt the urge to correct some of these injustices that kept occurring so close to home.

* * *

I was 16 when I took my first human life.

Once I had become a teenager, Sue had noticed the subtle changes in my development that were starting to become more visible. Because I trusted her dearly, I decided to be honest with her when she asked me about my odd behavior. I told her about my obsession with blood and how sometimes I felt like I could snap at any moment. Sue told me that she understood – well, _not really,_ but she understood as much as she could – and said that she would help me honed in this urge so that I could learn how to control it before I did something rash.

And that's when I learned how to hunt.

It wasn't really that difficult stalking my prey. Once I had a target on lock, nothing could stop me from focusing on it and carrying out my mission. It started off small, first with rodents and other insignificant animals that just destroy your yard or didn't know how to get out of the way when you're driving. Once I killed a pit bull, but he deserved it. His name was Killer, _coincidentally_, and he killed a lot of the neighborhood pets because his owners never put him on a fucking leash. He was my biggest prey yet until I graduated to humans. In order to conceal my true identity and deepest secrets, I also had to learn how to seem _normal_. I occasionally went out with Puck and his friends, but mostly, I stayed at home and studied. Through the masses of blood and death that floated through my head, at heart, I was just a nerd with an abnormal pastime.

Like I said before, I was 16 the first time I killed someone. Instead of a sweet 16 party, my present was a 43 year old child molester. I had watched him for weeks, learning his daily routine and making sure he fit _The Code_. When referring to _The Code_, there are many rules and regulations that _should_ be abided by in order to keep one's self hidden and to make sure your target is actually evil. However, the 2 most important rules that must never be broken:

_**1. Never kill an innocent. **_

_**2. Never get caught.**_

After I was absolutely positive that this subject met _The Code_, I waited for the perfect opportunity to put my plan in motion. Since I was a bit of a geek, I mixed up my own batch of cheap chloroform to knock out my target. Unfortunately for me, I hadn't tweaked my formula enough to account for how overweight my first kill was. Have no fear though… as time went on and I killed more people, I eventually perfected my routine. Anyways, during the middle of securing him to the table, he came to and we struggled. Luckily for me he was still a little disoriented by the chloroform and I was able to subdue him once again. This time when he woke up, he was surrounded by a room filled with pictures of the little kids he had robbed of their innocence. Of course there was the begging and pleading and pure denial that kept leaving his mouth, but after a while when he realized that shit was getting real… he confessed.

Once he confessed, there was no longer any doubt in my mind that he wasn't the monster that I knew he was. Once he confessed, I knew that there would never be another child that would have to worry about being touched by this pathetic excuse for a man. Once he confessed… there was no longer any reason for him to share the same air as me. With one final look into his eyes, I jammed my knife as far into his chest cavity that I could go. As the blood continued to seep from his body and he took his last breath, a small smile crept across my face. Don't get me wrong now… I don't _enjoy_ killing people. However, I do enjoy ridding this world of the evil that slips through the cracks of our justice system.

_Which leads me back to present day…_

* * *

My name is Santana Lopez-Sylvester. I'm 28 years old and I'm currently employed by the Miami Metro Police Department. During the day, I'm a Blood Splatter Analyst that works in one of the best crime labs in the nation. By night, however… I'm what most people would refer to as a serial killer. Although that term has serious negative undertones associated with it, these are the cards I have been dealt with. The one cool thing about working at the police department – _besides being surrounded by highly trained professionals that have no idea about my __**extra**__-curricular activities_ – is that I get to work with my brother, Noah Puckerman-Sylvester, whom is a detective. Now you may be wondering _(or maybe not)_ why me and Puck have _sort of_ different last names. Sue once told me that even though she had adopted us, she didn't completely change our names because she didn't want us to forget where we came from.

I know what you must be thinking…isn't it kinda hypocritical of me to work with the police department and help them solve hundreds of cases each year when _technically _I am a criminal myself? To answer your question… yes and no. Although I should probably be locked away in a cell somewhere or placed into a mental institution to be studied, my twisted brain allows me to be an expert at the job the state pays me to do. Because of my _unique_ abilities, I'm able to see certain things at crime scenes that even the most experienced officers and detectives would miss. I look at it as my way of giving back. If I could stop killing people, then I would. However, at least all of the people I have killed deserved it. I know that it seems like I'm just trying to justify my actions; but honestly, I made peace with my sickness a long time ago. The only possible thing that could stop me is my own demise. But until that day comes, I'll continue to personify the _ideal_ human life form that is aesthetically pleasing to the eye and continue to clean up the mess of injustices that have fallen by the wayside.

Doing the job that I do, I see a lot of people walk in and out of the police station that shouldn't. It pains me to see the look on my co-workers faces when they don't have enough to arrest the person they know is guilty of whatever crime. However, it makes me feel much better knowing that their judgment day will be coming soon... at the sight of my hands.

* * *

As I look up from the computer screen in my office, I spot my latest target… _Brittany Pierce_. From first glance, Miss Pierce looks like your average All-American girl next door… but she's not. I mean, I bet she probably _used_ to be the sweetest girl until the day she met her ex-boyfriend Samuel Evans.

_Samuel Evans…_

For the past 11 years, the country lived in fear while Sam Evans and his girlfriend traveled from city-to-city, slaying a new victim every stop of the way. It wasn't until their 7th kill that the FBI got involved and linked the murders together. It was a single drop of blood that linked Evans to several of the crime scenes, seeing as he already had a criminal record for petty theft and aggravated assault. It was later discovered that Brian and Susan Pierce were Evans' first victims, which eventually led to his connection with Miss Pierce.

When they first met, Evans was 21 while Brittany was only 16. Brittany's parents disapproved of her relationship with him and forbid their daughter from spending any further time with the boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Evans, being a guy that always got what he wanted, did not take too kindly to that. This_ forced_ separation set by Brittany's parents is what appeared to be the trigger for Evans, thus beginning his killing spree.

For the longest time, America feared running into the killer duo that the Bureau classified as the modern-day Bonnie and Clyde. I remember when I first read about them, I was kinda grossed out because I thought they looked more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend. Brittany was a beautiful blonde with blue eyes. She didn't look like your typical serial killer… then again, neither do I. Evans, on the other hand, wasn't a bad looking cat. He also had blonde hair and that whole bad boy look going on so I can see what attracted Brittany to him. However, those big guppy lips looked like they could swallow a person whole.

Eventually, the dynamic duo was caught in Phoenix when Evans had made a pit stop to buy some cigarettes and the clerk recognized him. Once the killer blonde duo was in custody, Evans agreed to confess to all of the murders under the condition that he would be able to do his time in Miami, the place that he was born. The District Attorney juggled with the idea for a few days before ultimately coming to a decision. Ultimately, since Evans was asking for so little, the DA thought it would save the victims' families a lot of heartache and pain putting them through a drawn-out trial.

After being transferred to Miami's penitentiary, Evans kept to his word and confessed to everything. What surprised everyone was that he said that he had acted alone. He said that Brittany was an innocent bystander that feared him so much that she thought he would kill her if she tried to leave or alert the authorities. What sweetened the pot was that he waved all of his rights for any future appeals and was sentence to life imprisonment. When Brittany was interviewed, she appeared to be in shock. She never admitted to helping with the killings. In fact, her statement was eerily similar to the confession that Evans had given. With that in place, Brittany was granted immunity and set free.

* * *

It wasn't until about a month later that Miss Pierce popped onto my radar again. Will Schuester, a well-known best-selling author, was doing some research for his latest book that was based on all 52 murders that were committed by Samuel Evans. However, Mr. Schuester had an alternate theory and rather keen interest in the true extent of Brittany Pierce's involvement. When he came to visit me and presented his alternate theory, I'll admit… I was intrigued. It wasn't until he left my office and I got a chance to look at some of the crime scene photos and autopsy reports of the victims he had mentioned that I became hooked. After reviewing the first few cases, I couldn't help but agree with Mr. Schuester's theory.

Out of the 52 victims that were killed, all of them were stabbed multiple times. In a majority of the cases, this was the cause of death. However, in 15 of the cases, the victims' cause of death was asphyxiation caused by manual strangulation. A closer look at the photos from each of these particular victims' cases showed visible handprints around each of their throats. At closer examination, it was clear that the handprints left were much too small to belong to Samuel Evans. Also, all of these particular victims were males.

Upon further research on each of these victims, one pattern seemed to emerge. The significant others of these specific men all appeared to have an extensive medical history, including multiple visits to the ER within the past few years. These visits included multiple bruises and/or broken bones that could not be explain by the patient. A closer look at the males showed no criminal history or even an accusation of domestic abuse from their respective partners. Maybe that was Brittany's trigger… maybe she could see what other people couldn't. If that's the case, then her killing these men who abused their partners almost seems poetic. However, if she stood by and allowed Evans to kill innocent people, then she is just as guilty as he is. The only difference is… she has immunity.

The more that I pieced together about Miss Pierce's involvement, the more I wanted her on my table for myself. That wasn't going to be easy though, seeing as Mr. Schuester had spent months, _maybe even years,_ constructing his theory. He proved to be a complication if he got in my way. Usually I have a very _strategic_ way of getting rid of complications; however, he was an innocent and definitely did not meet _The Code_. I tried to throw him off the trail by complimenting his theory, but ultimately telling him that I believed that Evans acted alone and Brittany was probably experiencing some form of Battered Woman's Syndrome, which would explain why she couldn't just leave Evans. Mr. Schuester seemed to accept my explanation, but I could tell that this wouldn't be the last time our paths crossed.

_Unfortunately for Mr. Schuester, I was right…_

* * *

A couple of weeks later, I ended up at Mr. Schuester's apartment, working the crime scene of his death. There wasn't much blood, except for what was leaking from his head from the blunt force trauma. Nevertheless, this isn't what caused his death, judging by the petechial hemorrhaging in his eyes and the pillow that lied next to his cold body.

"Doesn't look like anything was taken, so we can probably rule out robbery," Detective Quinn Fabray stated.

"No signs of forced entry, so more than likely Schuester knew his killer," Puck said.

"Sylvester!" Lt. Roz Washington yelled, gaining me and Puck's attention.

"Yeah LT?" Puck responded.

"Not you, _Puckerman_-Sylvester…" Lt. Washington simply said. "I was talking to your sister."

"Oh…" Puck replied, looking a little defeated.

"Yes ma'am?" I responded, looking towards her direction.

"What do you see?"

Lt. Washington often asked me this particular question on crime scenes. She described my observations and ability to re-enact certain crime scenes as a very rare gift that added a special element to our team. Who knows why I can just look at a scene, see the blood splatter, and deduct what events took place in the victim's last moments of life.

_It's not because I was a serial killer myself or anything…_

"Well… I agree with Puck," I started out. "Schuester definitely knew his killer… or at least knew them well enough to let them into his home. I think this was an impulsive kill…"

"What makes you say that?" Lt. Washington asked.

As I walked around the living room and surveyed Schuester's body and the contents of the room, I continued my theory of events.

"I think they were having an argument that became heated. Schuester was perhaps a little stressed, hence his half-full glass of Scotch that he only took maybe a sip out of," I said as I squatted down next to the body. "Maybe Schuester said something that the killer didn't want to hear and before they knew it, Schuester was on the ground with blood dripping from his head and the killer had the bottle of Scotch left in their hands."

As I look at my colleagues, they all seem to be pondering this sequence of events.

"If you look right here," I say as I point to a spot a few feet away from Schuester's body, "you can still see broken fragments of the bottle that were left behind. I think that once they saw that Schuester was bleeding, the killer freaked out and dropped the bottle, making it shatter into pieces. I think the killer panicked and then grabbed a pillow off of the couch and used it to silence the only witness to their crime. After that, the killer cleaned up as much of the glass as possible and got the hell out of here."

"If they took the time to clean up the broken glass, then why wouldn't they try to clean up the rest of this mess?" Puck questioned.

"Because the glass is probably the only thing that could tie the killer to the scene," I responded. As I observed several scrunched up faces, I explained further. "Fingerprints… the bottle would've been the only thing that held the killer's fingerprints."

As the collective _"ohhs"_ left the mouths of my co-workers, I finished up my theory.

"If you check the trash bins, chances are, you won't find anything. More than likely, the killer took the broken pieces of glass with them and dumped them elsewhere."

As my colleagues continued to search Schuester's apartment for any additional clues and tried to think of possible suspects, the face of one person popped into my head_… Brittany_. As far as we knew, Schuester didn't have any known enemies and the only person that would benefit from his death would be her. Brittany had everything to lose once Schuester's book was published. Even though she had immunity, the mere accusation of being responsible for some of the murders would be enough to put her life in jeopardy. At this point, it was about self-preservation for Brittany… and Will Schuester was the only thing standing in the way of that goal.

"What about Brittany Pierce?" Puck suggested, snapping me out of my thoughts. "She was the main subject of the book he was writing, right?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't look like he got very far with his research," Det. Fabray stated as she went through his computer files. "The only thing that he has in his notes is the same basic information that is already available to the public."

_That's weird…_

I knew for a fact that Schuester had done extensive research to support his theory of Brittany being a killer as well. I had snuck into his apartment not long after our meeting, just to see how much he had composed. Needless to say, I was impressed. This is when I knew that he wasn't going to easily give up. Brittany must've erased all of the pertinent information after she killed him. She was smart though… she left enough of his research on his computer so that it didn't appear that anything was missing. This was all the proof I needed to confirm what I already knew… Brittany was a killer.

I knew eventually that Miss Pierce would be brought in for questioning, so I had to work fast. Once I followed her for a couple of days, I knew the perfect time to strike. And so I waited in the darkness as she returned to her apartment from running various errands. Once she stepped out of her car, locked it, and turned around to make the trek to her apartment, I struck.

"Hello, Brittany…" I stated calmly as inserted the needle filled with horse tranquilizer into her neck.

* * *

As Brittany woke up, she found herself naked… secured to a table by nothing but high-quality clear plastic. As her vision became clearer, she saw the various pictures of the males she murdered surrounding the very dimly-lit room. As she struggled to try and break free from her restraints, I finally made myself known.

"You may have everyone else fooled… but I know who you really are," I stated, standing behind her.

As she strained her neck to see who was speaking to her, I walked forward towards the light, revealing myself. At first her eyes were squinted as she tried to focus on my features. But then, as realization hit her, her eyes widen in surprise. I lifted my hand towards her face and removed the duct tape that was covering her mouth.

"It's you… you're that c-c-crime scene chick," Brittany stuttered out, fear apparent in her voice. "W-what are you g-gonna do to me?"

"Exactly what the justice system failed to do…" I replied. "You killed these men and let your boyfriend take the blame for all of it."

"And how does that concern you?"

"I can't stand people like you…"

"Seriously?! You know you're a complete hypocrite, right?" Brittany retorted, lifting herself up quickly, only to be meet with resistance from the plastic wrapped around her. "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that this ain't your first rodeo."

"I only kill people who deserve it… I don't kill innocents," I responded.

"Innocents?! Those men weren't innocent!" Brittany yelled back. "They beat their girlfriends and wives and no one did a damn thing to stop it!"

"How would you know, huh?" I questioned. "None of those men had criminal records and there was never any reports of abuse by their partners."

"Because I know! Once you've been a victim of abuse, it's easy to spot the signs!" Brittany continued to yell in anger. "Those men were just like my father… they got what they deserved!"

"Oh yeah… what about Will Schuester?!" I yelled back, holding a butcher knife near her throat.

"He…" she started off, but then paused as she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. "He was a mistake… he just couldn't leave me be," Brittany stated more calmly, opening her eyes and locking them onto mine. "I didn't go there to kill him… I just wanted to talk to him, but he was being so unreasonable. The next thing I knew, the bottle was in my hand and he was on the ground bleeding. I didn't really have a choice after that."

As I looked into Brittany's eyes, I felt the sincerity in them. I believed everything she said and felt kinda sorry for her. Here was a girl that had been abused by her father and felt absolutely helpless against him until Evans came into the picture. In a way, he saved her. However, as his killing spree increased and the blonde duo came across the first victim that reminded Brittany of her father, she decided to not be a victim anymore. In her own twisted way, she lived by her own code.

"I won't apologize for putting those dogs down…" Brittany spoke again. "For what I did to Will though… I deserve whatever punishment you have in store for me."

As those words left her mouth, a sense of relaxation soften her features. She was no longer trying to fight the fate I had set for her. As I looked deep into Brittany's eyes, I felt something that I had never felt before… _hope_. I had never had the chance to really just _look _at Brittany before. She was absolutely beautiful and had an amazing body. But most of all, her eyes were just so damn mesmerizing. Here on my table laid a woman who might actually understand me better than anyone else. She understood the need to take a human life that had escaped actual justice. In a way, she was a vigilante like me.

"Well, Santana… what are you waiting for?"

_Wait… she knows my name?_

"You're not the only one that's done her research," Brittany smirked playfully. "At least the last thing my eyes will see before I leave this Earth is the sight of a beautiful woman."

I didn't know how to take her statement. I had been called a numerous amount of things before in the past, but _beautiful_ was certainly never one of them. As I shake my head away from my thoughts, I remember that I came here for a reason… to _kill _Brittany Pierce. All of this talking is just a distraction from my task at hand.

As I raise my knife up and take one last look at Brittany, she closes her eyes, awaiting her untimely death. Once my knife makes contact with table, Brittany's eyes squeeze shut even tighter than before. As I cut away the plastic securing her body to the table, Brittany's eyes finally open in surprise as she realizes what I'm doing. As she leans up, allowing the plastic to fall away from her I chest, I can't help but stare.

"W-what are you doing?" she says with questioning eyes. "Is this a trick? Like, as soon as I make a move towards the door, you're gonna slit my throat?"

"N-no… no trick," I fumble out, breaking my staring contest with chest. "Just go, Brittany… consider this your lucky day."

As I walk over to the counter and place my knife back into its sheath, I notice that Brittany hasn't moved yet.

"Why?" Brittany says as she grabs my wrist.

The feeling of her hand touching me sent chills through my body. "I don't know… but maybe you should leave before I change my mind."

I say those words, hoping that it would give Brittany the push she needed to release my arm and get out of here. However, this only seemed to spur her on further. As her grip tightened around my wrist, I felt a slight tug, bringing me closer to her.

"What if I don't want to leave," Brittany whispers out, looking directly into my eyes.

In was in that moment that I felt another first in my life. For the first time, I felt a connection with someone. As I look back into her eyes, I saw something hiding behind them. Maybe it was desire, lust… _want_? I couldn't say for sure, being that I've never been in this position before. Whatever it was though, I wasn't going to question it.

I glance down at my wrist nestled in her hand before looking back into her eyes. And just like that, an animal-like instinct took over my body as I crashed my lips against hers. It felt electrifying as I grabbed her face with both of my hands to pull her closer to me. She reciprocated my every move, swiping her tongue against my lower lip while slightly biting it. This made my heart palpitate. The next thing I knew, I was hopping up on top of the table and straddling Brittany. Our lips broke apart momentarily as she reached for my Henley shirt and ripped it off. Apparently my bra was an issue and was quickly removed.

As Brittany's hands began to ravish my breasts, I couldn't help but throw my head back in ecstasy. Once her lips attached themselves to my erect nipple, my hands immediately nestled into her hair and pressed her further against my body. This sensation I was experiencing throughout my body was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before. Sure, I've had a couple of one night stands in the past, but nothing came close to the way Brittany was making me feel in this moment. I couldn't let her have all the fun though. Suddenly, I grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled it back, breaking her lip lock with my chest. I then pushed her so that she was flat on her back again and began to equally ravish her chest. Running my tongue up and down her torso felt amazing, especially the way her body responded to it.

Once I had my fun with her chest, I kissed her hard, bringing our bare chests together. As I continued to explore Brittany's mouth with mine, I felt her hands glide up and down my sides until they came to rest on the top of my cargo pants. Receiving the message, I detach my lips from hers so that she can undo my pants and toss them to the floor. Once I'm lying back on top of her, I feel Brittany's hand cup my moist center until she finally enters me. I ride her fingers like that red-headed boy who rode Seabiscuit. I rock back and forth until my walls clench around her digits and I experience my very first orgasm after 28 long years. After I come down from my high, I snake my hand down Brittany's body until my fingers are coated with her want for me. I then bring my fingers back up and stick them into my mouth, tasting her for the first time. I waste no time as I kiss my way down her body until my tongue is deep inside her core. As she jerks her hips up and down, I plunge deeper until her walls crumble and she shakes uncontrollably with pleasure.

* * *

After our breathing returns to normal, Brittany and I just lay there, our limbs tangled up in each other.

"So… what does this mean?" Brittany finally asks, breaking the silence between us.

"I don't know…" I reply honestly. I had never experience this type of bliss before. It almost made me feel human… or whatever the next best thing to that would be. "The cops are gonna question you about Schuester's death. Although there isn't much to go on, you're really the only suspect they have."

"I wasn't talking about that…" Brittany began, "I meant what happens with _us_ now?"

"I… I don't know how to answer that," I stated. "What do you want to happen?"

"Maybe we could try dating?" Brittany says hesitantly. "Sam was the only person I've ever been with… until you, that is. I'd be willing to try to see where things could go between us."

As Brittany interlaces our fingers together, I think about her words. I've never dated anyone before, like legitimately. Then again, I've never let someone that I've had on my table before live. But Brittany was different… she was _special_. This is all very new to me so I wasn't exactly sure what the right response should be. Sensing my apprehension, Brittany tightened her grip on my hand.

"I'm guessing this is all kinda new for you too, seeing the type of work that you do _after hours_," Brittany casually stated, like she was reading my thoughts. It was weird, but also cool that I didn't necessarily have to say what I was thinking for her to get it… she just knew.

"I'd like to try…" I finally say. The mega-watt smile that appeared on Brittany's face tells me that my response was a good one. "Come home with me… y'know, once I clean up here."

"Okay," she responded simply.

As I hop off of the table and grab my clothes to put back on, Brittany speaks again.

"Why me?" she ponders. "What makes me different?"

As I shrug my shoulders, I offer her the only answer I can think of. "You just are."

This seems to satisfy her wondering mind as she jumps off the table and makes her way over to the counter to put her own clothes back on. After she's done, she begins helping me clean up my kill room. As we bag up the last piece of plastic, Brittany looks over at me and smiles. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I think for the first time in my life, I might be able to have a _normal _relationship. The only thing I could think of is how crazy this turn of events has been. Whatever the case may be, I know that Sue would be proud of me (y'know, minus the whole _I still need to kill_ thing).

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hello awesome readers! Yes, I know this isn't an update for _**Recipe for Disaster**_ like you were expecting, but I just couldn't resist. I guess I'm still reeling from the series finale of_ Dexter_. I must say, that show is definitely a guilty pleasure of mine (seeing that I'm in the law enforcement field…_ shh, don't tell nobody ;)_) Anyways, for those of you who aren't really familiar with the show, Santana is Dexter, Brittany is Hannah, Puck is Debra, and Sue is Harry. Now that I've got that out of my system, I'm back to work on the update for _**Recipe**_. Again, thanks for all of your continued support! Enjoy!

-Kris

**Disclaimer:** Unfortunately, I do **NOT** own _Glee_ or _Dexter_


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